


something old, something new

by sage (kiwi37)



Series: SASO 2016 [2]
Category: Tennis no Oujisama | Prince of Tennis
Genre: F/F, Fluff and Smut, Future Fic, cheerleader uniform kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-23
Updated: 2016-06-23
Packaged: 2018-07-16 18:14:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,185
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7278580
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiwi37/pseuds/sage
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tomoka and Sakuno tackle cleaning out Tomoka's closet, and Sakuno makes an interesting find from their middle school days </p><p>Fill for SASO 2016 Bonus Round 2</p>
            </blockquote>





	something old, something new

**Author's Note:**

> so this got um. way, way out of hand lol, sorry for the wait, lovely prompter!! i hope you enjoy it!

 “Honestly, Tomoka, you’re going to be twenty-two this spring! I know you inherited your father’s “collecting” habit, but I think you can afford to let go of a few things from when you were ten. Last time I was in your room, I’m pretty sure I saw the closet door bulging!”

 

“Mama, don't exaggerate! And what are you going in my room for, anyway?” Tomoka shoots her mother a pouty glare even as they step around each other in perfect unison, working side-by-side as they cook their first family meal since Tomoka had left for her second-to-last semester. Sakuno sits, as always, comfortably ensconced at their kitchen table and smiling into her tea, watching the odd, belligerently affectionate dance they do. It’s never a wonder where Tomoka gets her personality from.

 

"Well, regardless, I think it’s about time you give it a thorough cleaning. I know there are clothes in there we could donate, and anyway, where are you going to put all the _new_ things you just can't bear to throw out?” Sighing loudly as she dumps chopped vegetables into a pan, Tomoka rolls her eyes and shoots Sakuno an exasperated look behind her mother’s back.

 

“If you ask nicely, I’m sure you could even convince Sakuno-chan to help!” Just like clockwork. With most people it’s a turn of phrase, but Sakuno has her suspicions that Tomoka’s mom really does have eyes in the back of her head. Smiling appeasingly at Tomoka, Sakuno nods.

 

“Of course I’ll help, Tomo-chan. It might be fun to see what we can dig up, don't you think?”

 

“Traitor!” Tomoka whines. “Have you been conspiring with my mom while I’m off at college? That’s cheating, you know!”

 

.

 

Three hours later, uncomfortably full of home-cooked food and draped haphazardly across Tomoka’s bed, Sakuno thinks she could probably die happy. She reaches out for Tomoka, who’s still standing somehow, glaring at her closet. Her fingers miss, just barely brushing the back of Tomoka’s sweater, and she makes a sad little noise in the back of her throat that barely distracts Tomoka from what’s apparently some pretty heated contemplation.

 

“I’m gonna end up cleaning the damn thing, aren't I?” Tomoka asks, sounding more like she’s talking to herself than Sakuno. She steps back, though, into range of Sakuno’s grasping hand, and Sakuno sighs happily as she twines their fingers together.

 

“Probably,” she mumbles, warm and agreeable. “I told you I’d help you. It’s not _that_ big of a closet, I bet we could get through it in a night.”

 

"I think you’re underestimating me, Sakuno. Mama was totally exaggerating about the door bulging, but I, uh, might have had some trouble closing it when I was packing last summer....” Sakuno snorts, too content to be polite.

 

"Oh, Tomo-chan, I _never_ underestimate you. I’ve known better than that since middle school, thank you very much.” Squeezing Sakuno’s hand, Tomoka finally glances back at her.

 

“You know, I’m not totally sure that’s a compliment.” Sakuno grins cheerfully at her, and Tomoka huffs, turns around to grab Sakuno’s other wrist and yank her halfway off the edge of the bed.

 

“Tomo—!” Tomoka cuts her off mid-squawk, swooping down to kiss her, upside-down and laughing at Sakuno’s alarm.

 

“You would deserve it if I dumped you off this bed,” Tomoka mutters against the corner of Sakuno’s lips, and Sakuno nods, turning her head for another kiss.

 

“Probably,” she says, and yelps again anyway when Tomoka hauls the rest of her off the bed and drops her on the floor in a giggling heap.

 

Eventually, Sakuno pulls herself together enough to roll over and push herself, groaning, up to her hands and knees. Too full and too lazy to get up, she crawls as she follows Tomoka over to the closet doors, sitting back on her feet to stare up at them.

 

"…You know, she might not have been totally lying about the bulging,” Sakuno observes, eyeing the slight curvature in the center of the doors.

 

"I told you,” Tomoka says, mournful. “Remember that this was your idea, okay?”

 

“’Kay….” Tomoka puts both hands on the handle of the sliding door, braces herself, and yanks. The contents of the closet come tumbling out, a miniature avalanche of shoes, clothes, and knick knacks scattering around Tomoka’s feet. Sakuno claps a hand over her mouth, laughing breathlessly.

 

“Oh, Tomo-chan, that’s bad….” Tomoka doesn't bother objecting, just flops down, legs splayed, to start picking through the pile on the floor.

 

“At least we know where to start, right..?” She sounds dubious, but Sakuno nods, scooting up to sit next to her, digging into the pile.

 

“Right! Tell me what you want to keep, okay?”

 

They work out a system of three piles—keep, toss, donate—and work steadily for a bit, Sakuno holding up t-shirts, stuffed animals, and old school projects for Tomoka to judge. She ends up having to prod Tomoka a bit to let go of some things (“Do you really need all seven pairs of sunglasses, Tomo-chan? Why don't you just pick two or three you like best?”), but she does enough damage control to keep their “keep” pile relatively small.

 

It’s a big task, and Sakuno finds herself actually working up a sweat from moving things around, but it’s kind of fun, anyway. There are a lot of memories tucked away in Tomoka’s closet—evidence of shared obsessions from over the years that she hasn’t thought of in ages, souvenirs from old school trips, clothes that they had thought were the height of fashion as kids. Finding Tomoka’s old tennis racket makes Sakuno laugh, holding it up to Tomoka like it’s buried treasure.

 

“Remember this?” Tomoka pulls a face at her.

 

“Ugh, don’t remind me. You actually got good at tennis, it’s not nice to make fun of me.”

 

"As I recall, you were pretty good, too. The issue wasn’t so much with your tennis skills as the fact that you couldn't stop staring at Ryoma-kun long enough to look where you were swinging.” Sakuno grins up at Tomoka, who swats the top of her head lightly.

 

“Shut up! You were totally the same way, you just actually liked tennis on top of liking the guys playing it. Although I’m pretty glad I outgrew that part, too. Can you imagine actually having to date Ryoma-kun? What a nightmare.” She gives a theatrical shudder, and Sakuno laughs.

 

“Don’t be mean, Tomo-chan, he’s gotten a lot better! He makes conversation now and everything.” Tomoka interrupts her evaluation of a skirt from their high school days to shoot Sakuno a skeptical look. “Besides, it’s not like any of us were really dream dates back then. I was so nervous in public that I could barely string a sentence together half the time, and you—,” Sakuno gasps, her eyes widening as she lunges into the closet, digging past Tomoka’s middle school uniform and a handful of stuffed puppies and dolphins for what caught her attention.

 

"You made us wear things like this!" She crows, holding up two matching yellow tops. Tomoka’s mouth drops open and her face flushes with an immediacy that tells Sakuno she remembers exactly what the shirts are from.

 

“Oh my god, I had totally forgotten I used to do that…. I cannot believe me, why did you let us out in public like that?” Tomoka looks downright betrayed. Sakuno snickers.

 

“You were pretty insistent about it, Tomo-chan. And besides, I hadn’t really figured out that bisexuality was a thing yet, but I have a pretty clear memory of being a little too interested in how close to seeing your underwear I would get while you were jumping around.” Tomoka pauses in dropping another pair of shoes into the donate pile, her free hand pressing against her chest in false shock.

 

“Sakuno! You were already having dirty thoughts about me all the way back in middle school? You should have told me, we could have saved ourselves like four years!”

 

"Well, I didn't really _know_ they were dirty back then, Tomo-chan. I just knew that I really, really couldn’t stop sneaking glances at you in that outfit, and that it was probably kind of weird. Although I certainly would have said something if I had known you were going to be similar kinds of weird, and that it was going to work out so well for us.” Tomoka’s eyes narrow thoughtfully, and then she grins in a way that means she’s about to either delight or horrify Sakuno.

 

"Ya know, if I looked good enough back in _middle school_ to make you start questioning your sexuality, wouldn't it be interesting to see how good I look in it _now_?” Now it’s Sakuno’s turn to blush, heat creeping up her neck and prickling her cheeks.

 

“Tomo-chan, that’s not fair! You can’t use formative moments of my sexuality against me!” The idea has her feeling a little warm all over, though, shifting on her knees and pressing her thighs together. Tomoka laughs at her—she’s always been inconveniently observant.

 

“Oh you’re _so_ into it! Are the skirts in there, too? Come on, we’re totally doing this.”

 

“I—both of us?”

 

“Hell yes, both of us! If I’m squeezing myself into that tiny little skirt to fulfill your fetish, you better believe I’m getting my sexy cheerleader fantasy out of it, too. Besides, you’re gonna look really hot, no way I’m passing that up.” Her face is even hotter now, but Sakuno puts the shirts aside, leaning forward again to rummage around for the skirts. She finds them after a minute, a little crumpled, but still wearable.

 

“Yes!” Tomoka snatches one of the skirts, leaning down to grab one of the tops while she’s at it. “Okay, come on, get changed!” She grabs the hem of her shirt, ready to yank it off then and there, but Sakuno throws her hands up.

 

“Tomo-chan, hold on! If I see you put it on it sort of ruins the effect, don't you think..?” Tomoka blinks at her, then puts her hands on her hips.

 

“Yeah, I guess you’re kinda right. Okay, then you go over there and turn around while you change, and I’ll do the same thing in the other corner, okay?” She points a corner of her room, closest to her closet and opposite her bed. Pushing herself up after kneeling for so long, Sakuno groans a little, but nods.

 

“Okay, that sounds good. And no peeking, got it?” Tomoka sighs, but agrees, and they retreat to opposite sides of the room.

 

Sakuno is nervous as she strips down to her underwear, hesitating before unhooking her bra and dropping it to the floor, too. She fights the urge to glance over her shoulder to see what Tomoka is doing, steeling herself as she pushes her panties down her thighs and steps out of them. If they're going to do something like this, she might as well really go for it, right?

 

There are butterflies in her stomach as she pulls the skirt up—it’s too small to wear around her hips, so she pulls it all the way up to the dip of her waist, feeling grateful that she hadn’t really grown much after middle school. It had been embarrassing enough back then, and now it’s even worse—the front just barely covers her, brushing the tops of her thighs, and her ass is definitely hanging out the back. The top isn't quite as bad, but it’s tighter than it had been, and it’s a crop top more than anything at this point, cutting off well above her navel and leaving her midriff exposed.

 

Taking a deep breath, she squares her shoulders. “Okay, I—I’m done! Let me know when I can turn around!”

 

"Ah, almost done! One second!" There's some faint rustling and a couple of grunts, and Sakuno finds a soft, nervous giggle escaping her. She shakes her head, tugging her skirt down a little further in the back and fighting hard against the urge to peek.

 

“Alright, ready!” Tomoka calls after a few more seconds. “Let's turn around on three, okay? One… two… three!” Sakuno takes one more nervous, gasping breath and turns, eyes finding Tomoka immediately.

 

She looks—downright sinful, frankly, if Sakuno cared much about things like that. Another wave of heat hits her, so that she feels like her whole body must be flushed, and she knows her jaw is hanging open. Tomoka’s skirt is just as short as Sakuno’s—a little shorter, in fact, because Sakuno can glimpse a tiny bit of the paler blue of Tomoka’s panties under the edge of her skirt, and the top is definitely smaller on Tomoka. It’s stretched tightly across the generous curve of her chest, the edge hits so high on her ribs that it has Sakuno wondering just how much she would see if she could hunt out a pair of the ridiculous pink pom-poms for Tomoka to wave around, and her nipples are clearly visible through the thin fabric. A noise makes its way out of Sakuno’s throat that she’s not entirely in control of.

 

Tomoka laughs, breathless. “That good, huh?” Sakuno bites her lip, settles for nodding because she doesn't trust her voice right now. “You look pretty hot, too. Should I put on a little show for you? I don't think I remember any of the cheerleading routines, though.” She doesn't wait for Sakuno to answer, just bounces a little on the balls of her feet and twirls, so that her skirt flares out around her, giving Sakuno a better look at her panties for a brief moment. She pauses facing away from Sakuno and looks back at her over her shoulder. “This is what you were really into, though, right? Wanted to see my ass?”

 

She bends forward slightly, calling Sakuno’s attention to the hem of her skirt again. Sakuno definitely can see her ass, now—not all of it, the skirt isn't _that_ short, but the round swell where it meets her thighs, and the bottom seam of her sky blue underwear, curving neatly down to the juncture of her thighs and making Sakuno think about putting her fingers there.

 

“Can I—is it okay if I touch you?” Sakuno asks, not wanting to ruin any plans Tomoka might have in mind, but suddenly desperate to get her hands on her. Tomoka laughs, tossing her hair over her shoulders.

 

“Duh, I’d be kind of offended if you didn't. Get over here.” She crooks a finger at Sakuno, winking, and Sakuno is across the room in seconds, smoothing her hands over the fabric covering Tomoka’s hips. Before she can think too hard about it, she drops to her knees, running her hands up the back of Tomoka’s thighs and over the exposed curve of her ass. She leans forward, pressing her lips to Tomoka’s bare skin, following the trail of her hands as best as she can, and Tomoka laughs.

 

“You know, I never realized you were such a big fan of my butt, Sakuno.” Humming, Sakuno kisses the fabric of Tomoka’s panties, starting near the hem of her skirt and following them further down, until her face is pressed into the juncture of Tomoka’s thighs.

 

"Mhm," she murmurs, only half listening. “Big fan. Can I..?” Tomoka spreads her legs a little, leaning forward to brace her forearms against the wall.

 

“You can do whatever you want, Sakuno. This is your fantasy, after all—I’m all yours.” Sakuno moans a little, presses another kiss to the curve of Tomoka’s ass to muffle herself. She follows whatever fantasy is driving her here, slips two fingers under the edge of Tomoka’s panties and slides them forward. Giving herself permission, she takes her time enough to feel the heat of Tomoka’s skin, the way the hitch of her breath shudders through her whole body, the slickness of arousal already gathering as Sakuno’s fingers skim gently over her entrance and further up, teasing, finding her outer lips.

 

Above her, Tomoka groans deep in her throat, shifting to brace herself more firmly and grind down against Sakuno’s hand. Sakuno applies her mouth to the backs and insides of Tomoka’s thighs, kissing and sucking the soft, warm skin in way that are sure to leave marks, and angles her wrist further, pushing her fingers up until she finds the hood of Tomoka’s clit. Positioning a finger on either side, she rocks her fingers back and forth, not touching Tomoka directly yet, and Tomoka drops her hips down, trying for more friction, more pressure.

 

Sakuno always has a little too much fun making Tomoka wait for it, though, so just as Tomoka is starting to find a rhythm, she slides her hand back down, fingers rubbing between her slick folds. She drags her fingertips across Tomoka’s entrance again, circling and then brushing back up to rub her clit briefly, enough to have Tomoka panting and trembling, but never pausing long enough to really give her the satisfaction she wants. It’s not purely cruelty—exploring Tomoka’s body has always been thrilling to her, and the new angle, coupled with the outfit, are presenting all sorts of new opportunities. Even as she’s teasing Tomoka, Sakuno can feel herself growing steadily wetter, knows the noises coming out of her mouth are verging on too loud.

 

“Sakunooo, come on,” Tomoka whines over her head, shuddering as Sakuno circles her clit with the tip of a finger again. Sakuno hums, sucks another red mark into Tomoka’s thigh, and drags her fingers back down, finally relenting enough to push two fingers inside of Tomoka. She’s so slick that there’s hardly any resistance, her body begging for it as much as her voice, and the gasping moan and the way she clenches around Sakuno’s fingers tells Sakuno that all the teasing has been worth the wait.

 

The angle isn't quite right, though—she can thrust her fingers gently in and out of Tomoka, flex and scissor them, but her hand is turned the wrong way to find the spot that makes Tomoka come apart. Tomoka seems to realize it too, shifts her hips up and away so that Sakuno pulls her fingers back, all the way out of Tomoka’s panties. Tomoka groans at the loss, but then she’s turning, her hands pressing on Sakuno’s shoulders.

 

“Okay, I know I said this was your fantasy and all, but—,” she starts, but Sakuno shakes her head frantically as Tomoka nearly shoves her backwards onto the floor, shimmying out of her panties and kicking them off before following Sakuno, crawling up her body until her knees are planted on either side of Sakuno’s shoulders.

 

“It’s okay, it’s fine, whatever you want,” Sakuno manages, gasping, and grabs Tomoka’s ass again, pulling her up until Tomoka can lower her hips to meet Sakuno’s mouth.

 

Sakuno doesn't waste any time, pulls the hood of Tomoka’s clit back so that she can flick her tongue across it, quick and rough, and reaches up to push three fingers back into Tomoka’s cunt. Tomoka’s head drops back and she moans, full and throaty, both hands tangling urgently in Sakuno’s hair. Any desire to tease Tomoka, drag this out longer, is completely gone, and Sakuno crooks her fingers, curling them until Tomoka has to bite her lip to muffle a shout. Sakuno seals her lips over Tomoka’s clit, sucking in the same rapid rhythm that her fingers find, and it’s a matter of moments before Tomoka is coming, curling down over Sakuno’s head with a hand clamped over her mouth as her thighs shake.

 

Sakuno laps at her clit and strokes her fingers inside Tomoka more gently until Tomoka takes a shaky breath, braces her hands on the floor, and pushes up and off of her. She doesn't make it far, collapses on the floor next to Sakuno, and Sakuno rolls onto her side, resting her cheek on Tomoka’s shoulder.

 

“Okay,” Tomoka says at length, voice still trembling slightly, “okay, that was a really great idea. I had _no_ idea skimpy little outfits got you so worked up, wow.” Sakuno makes a noncommittal noise, one hand finding its way up to knead her own breast as she squeezes her thighs together. The movement catches Tomoka’s attention and she tries to push herself up, but collapses back on the floor again.

 

“Crap. Give me like, one minute to get my muscles working here, I promise I won't leave you hanging.” Sakuno laughs.

 

“I know you won't. Not that I’m not going to be touching myself to the thought of this for months, anyway.” Pushing herself up, she swings a knee over Tomoka’s hips, hovering over her. “Would this be easier?”

 

“Probably,” Tomoka admits. She manages to get herself into a sitting position, at least, and tugs Sakuno down until she’s seated in her lap. “There we go,” she says softly, almost smug as she leans in to kiss Sakuno, open-mouthed and slow.

 

It’s comforting, a grounding force against the heat that’s still pounding in Sakuno’s blood, searing her from the inside. She wraps her arms around Tomoka’s neck and leans into it, pressing up against her and trying to keep her squirming to a minimum. Tomoka, of course, has to make it much harder by running her hands up Sakuno’s ribs, cupping her breasts and squeezing gently through the thin, yellow material of her shirt.

 

Pinching Sakuno’s nipples lightly and rolling them between her fingers earns Tomoka a gasping moan against her lips, sets Sakuno’s hips grinding down against her lap. Tomoka sucks on Sakuno’s tongue, giggling breathily as she pulls back.

 

“Sometimes I still can’t believe how sensitive you are here,” she says, grinning and adding just a little more pressure. Sakuno moans outright, waves of slow pleasure rolling through her body in addition to the urgent heat still thrumming beneath her skin.

 

“Ahh, Tomo-chan, _please_ , you can't tease me right now.” It comes out nearly a whimper, and she can't care that she’s begging, dampness gathering at the corners of her eyes.

 

Tomoka stares at her for a second, long eyelashes fluttering in surprise. “Fuck, Sakuno,” she says, sounding almost— _impressed_. “Are you really that turned on right now?” Desperate to get to the point, Sakuno grabs one of Tomoka’s wrists and drags it down between her legs—she’s swollen and practically dripping, so wet she’s probably already left a stain on her skirt. Tomoka’s mouth drops open a little.

 

“ _Shit_.” It’s almost a moan, and then Tomoka is pushing her backwards again, only a little more gentle this time as she surges forward, following Sakuno down. She hikes Sakuno’s shirt up roughly, swiping her tongue over one of Sakuno’s nipples before sucking it into her mouth. At the same time, her hands shove Sakuno’s knees apart—Sakuno whimpers for it, spreading her legs wider as Tomoka spreads her folds and pushes two fingers into her throbbing cunt without preamble. It’s good, but—

 

“More, more, Tomo-chan, please,” Sakuno gasps, grinding down against Tomoka’s hand. Tomoka rolls her nipple between her teeth, giving one last suck before pulling back, watching Sakuno’s face as she presses a third finger into her and lets go of Sakuno’s knee with her other hand, putting it to better use giving Sakuno something to grind her aching clit against.

 

“God, yes, like that, Tomo-chan, please!” When she glances up at her, Tomoka’s eyes are fixed on her face, hungry, and Sakuno grinds her hips harder against Tomoka’s hands even as she has to screw her eyes shut again. “Tomo-chan, Tomo-chan, faster, please, fuck me harder!” It’s not a cry so much as a stage whisper, conscious that they’re not in Sakuno’s apartment, she can’t scream Tomoka’s name and merely irritate the neighbors, but it still gets her what she wants. Tomoka rubs her clit in tight, fast circles and pumps her fingers in and out of her, pace unrelenting, and finally Sakuno comes, shaking and gasping for air, stars dancing across the backs of her eyelids with the force of it.

 

She comes back to herself when Tomoka slides her fingers free—her whole hand is glistening wet, and she watches Sakuno’s eyelids flutter as she licks her hand clean, incredibly smug.

 

“I cannot _believe_ a tiny little cheerleading outfit is all it took to get you _that_ wet,” she says, conversational. Sakuno flops her head to the side, groans weakly. Tomoka laughs gently, tries to pull Sakuno up by her wrists but gives up quickly, settles for flopping down next to her with her head on Sakuno’s stomach. She traces idle patterns into the skin there, and Sakuno wonders if she can hear how erratic her heartbeat still is, coming down from the most intense orgasm she can remember ever having.

 

She sort of drifts, warm despite the hardwood floor under her shoulders and perfectly content, tangled up with Tomoka, and she’s not sure if it’s thirty seconds or three minutes before she figures out how to work her voice again.

 

“You know,” she croaks, unsteady and dazed, “I think the closet might take us more than one night.”

 


End file.
